Those With Steady Hands
by Aurora Musis Amica
Summary: Colleagues. Rivals. Maybe friends? While on a sniper's perch, protecting his Commander, Garrus spends some quiet moments considering his newest ally, the assassin and fellow sniper known as Thane.


Twenty-five meter distance. Six meter elevation. No wind. No gravity distortions – the average sniper spent a lot of time being bitter at biotics – and most importantly, no civilians to wander into the line of fire. It was a sniper's heaven. Garrus followed Shepard's movements in his scope. Her helmet was off. She was negotiating. Or 'negotiating', considering her arms gesticulating in the way that humans did when they were being annoyed, that looked like teenagers preening to a turian.

She was speaking to two mercenaries who had a data disc she wanted. One was a human who had an uneven paint-job on his armour – Garrus counted three places where the painted colour suddenly switched nuance; the other a Turian wearing more bling than any male turian ever should – Garrus counted no less than five beads hanging from his fringe.

No, wait, there were supposed to be six beads, but one looked as though it had been violently shorn of. By a gunshot, perhaps.

Garrus spent a moment calculating whether he could make it four beads without anyone noticing.

Or at least, without anyone who wasn't Shepard or Thane noticing.

So he was bored. Shepard had told them that the mercs had asked to see her alone. Garrus had been about to voice an objection when she immediately followed the news up by ordering himself and Thane to suit up, come along, and don't be seen. They'd picked their spots to give the illusion of her being all by her lonesome, while still making sure she enjoyed the benefit of being as safe as a baby in its mother's arms. Or a Commander in her sniper team's scopes. When she wanted the mercs dead, she would not even need to reach for her weapon.

Garrus had the better vantage point, a clear shot on both the mercs, with no risk to Shepard. They had her trapped – or so they thought – in a dead end of the warehouse, high shipping containers on all sides. When they'd snuck in, Thane had silently indicated to Garrus to take this spot, as though Garrus hadn't already decided on it. Thane had then shimmied along the upper levels to find himself a different position, from where he had a view of not just Shepard and the mercs, but the entrance as well.

Which had looked very nice, Garrus had to admit. At least until Shepard decided that she liked being cornered against a crate hiding herself from the entrance, more than she liked being cornered against a crate with a clear view of it, and had put herself precariously close to Thane's line of fire on the Turian. Thane hadn't opened the comm to grumble, but Garrus knew he must have been at least a little annoyed. Granted, Shepard didn't know where Garrus and Thane were, and if the mercs called for backup, said backup having an immediate view on her wouldn't have been very nice.

You'd think a master Assassin would've thought of that.

If Garrus hadn't been there, there'd have been nothing to do about it – Thane would have to make the shot to both mercs. Doable, provided Shepard held still or dodged. Garrus was used to having Shepard's trust on the battlefield; this wouldn't be the first time she relied on him to nail something just over her shoulder. But Thane was still earning her trust, and getting used to working as a team. He might hesitate to take the shot. Probably not helped by Shepard's propensity towards the unexpected.

So it was up to Garrus.

Having settled that he could, in fact, shoot one of the beads dangling from the Turian's fringe without hitting the Turian, Garrus shifted his sight back to Shepard. She looked pissed now. Garrus found himself admiring the way her furrowed brows and stern cheeks made her freckles stand out more. Maybe he could count those?

Maybe he was just unbelievably bored. He flicked on the comm.

"Thane? Do you suppose we should just shoot them now, and spare her the misery?"

There was a chuckle on the line. "If you find incurring her wrath to be the cure for your boredom, please go ahead."

Of course the bastard had realised Garrus was bored. His scope shifting targets had probably tipped him off. "Come now, I don't think she'll be mad. We'll save her a lot of time."

"Then take the shot. I will assist."

Garrus grumbled. He'd been called a bad Turian on occasion, most commonly by himself, but even he knew to wait for his leader's signal before shooting the person she was talking to.

Unless the mercs got stupid and attacked her, which so far hadn't happened.

"Come on, aren't you at least a little bit bored?" At least he could share his distraction.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Reliving memories to pass the time?"

"No."

"Which ammo are you using?"

"Tungsten."

Of course he was using Tungsten. So was Garrus. Messy, but for this purpose, effective.

He sighed, and made sure the comm channel stayed open for its duration. Thane was... personable enough, but he had very little to say to Garrus. And when he did speak, Garrus couldn't tell if he was humouring him, or simply talking so Garrus wouldn't notice a silence. Refusing to speak when spoken to would call attention to himself, something Thane never did. So he answered; he just never said anything.

Garrus reacquired his target. "Do you suppose they'll wisen up?" The mercs were still trying to intimidate Shepard. More credits, unless Garrus missed his mark.

"I doubt it. They will die today." Stated smoothly, just like that. Then, strangely, Thane spoke again, unprompted. "I cannot tell for whose benefit she is delaying the inevitable."

Garrus tilted his scope back on Shepard. Thane posed a good question. Then he saw her caressing her temple with a gloved finger, and a moment later her weary voice was warm in his ears.

"Gentlemen, now please."

Garrus grinned, adjusted his aim back to his target, breathed, and fired.

It nearly sounded as though his shot was an echo, an auditory illusion created by Thane's sniper-rifle going off a few milliseconds earlier on the opposite side.

Garrus growled. He'd lost those milliseconds by watching Shepard instead of his target. Amateur mistake, made worse by another chuckle through the comm.

Through his scope, he saw the mercs drop, gliding to the floor with the surprised death-spasms of fast, clean kills. Shepard was in the exact same position she had been upon giving the command. It may have been Garrus' imagination, but he thought he saw her hair swaying with the breeze of their shots. They'd been forced to shoot crossfire due to Shepard's placement on the field – the twin shots crossing paths, both passing within two decimeters of her body like a sniper's caress.

Once the corpses had come to a stop and the silence reigned again, she bent over and started rifling through the pockets of the mercs, fishing out the offending disc. She held it up so they could both see she had it. Through his scope, Garrus saw her nodding at Thane, holding the gesture a meaningful long moment. Their shots had revealed their locations to her, and she would have seen which merc died first. Garrus felt a twinge of... something. Annoyance, perhaps. Then Shepard turned and grinned at him, her steady eyes looking directly at his through the magnified lens. She winked, a gesture just for him, and the twinge was gone again.

"Nice work, gentlemen. Lets have lunch. My treat."


End file.
